Tales of Terror: The Fat Man Email
by SaintHeartwing
Summary: There's a sinister email going around the city Dib and Gaz live in. Click on it, and you'll see the Fat Man following you. Now he's at your window. Now he's right behind you. And now...you're HIS. Their high school teacher Mr. Elliot doesn't believe the Fat Man's real. Thinks it's just a myth. But he'll be made a true believer soon enough...


**"Do Not Click".**

That's what it read. "Do Not Click". And Jessica had to admit she was surprised by what she saw as the faint light of her laptop illuminated her face. Outside the moon hung low in the evening sky as she blinked softly, moving the mouse key slowly over to the link.

"Do Not Click".

...but it was just to tempting. She clicked the mouse button, the long-haired blonde inspecting the screen closely as her eyes began to go wider and wider. "How in the..." She murmured, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. It made no sense. How could...I mean, she would have seen him, she would have HEARD him-

Heard...

Wh...what was-

The next morning, Ms. Stonehart made her way into her daughter's room, Jessica staring at the screen. She reached out and rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder, slightly scolding in her tone. "Sweetie, you need to log off or you're gonna be late for school."

A faint mumble. Mrs. Stonehart blinked, turning the chair Jessica was in around. "Jessica, come on, you-"

Then she saw her child's face.

And she SCREAMED.

...

...

...

... "Jessica Stonehart? Hello? Jessica Stonehart?"

Gaz's teacher Mr. Elliot glanced about, adjusting his glasses as he slightly pursed his lips. It was so unlike Jessica to not be in class. He looked around the pale blue classroom, seeing the many faces of his students, but sure enough, Jessica Stonehart wasn't anywhere to be seen. The blonde schoolteacher scratched his head in confusion as he stood behind his desk, freckled face showing how strange he found it all. "How odd. She's never, ever been late."

"You didn't hear?" Gaz said as she sat behind her own desk, a little notepad of piggies in one hand. She scribbled on it slightly, drawing a happy little piggy who was happily impaling Torque Smacky and spewing all the cute, happy little blood he had all over the page with his happy little hooves. "She had to go to the hospital this morning. We saw her rush Jessica into an ambulance not half an hour ago."

"Oh my." Mr. Elliot remarked, clear concern on his features. "I hope it isn't serious."

"Depends on how serious you think semen overdoses are." Torque remarked with a chuckle, the big, burly brat sitting next to Gaz as he rested his head on his hands and grinned that ugly, shit-eating grin. Mr. Elliot gave him a glowering look.

"Torque Smacky, that was your last comment today. I hear ONE more rude little quip from you-"

"Hey, I'm just kidding ar-"

"Not...ONE." Mr. Elliot said, pointing at Torque with his finger. "Actions have **consequences** , Mr. Smacky. You need to learn that."

"It looked serious, honestly." Dib admitted as he gesticulated with his hands. "I think I KNOW what it is too. Cuz Ms. Stonehart was all white and pale and shaky, like she'd seen a ghost."

"We should all try and look on the bright side. At least she made our football team happy." Torque added.

TEN MINUTES LATER...

"I'm very sorry, but it's unacceptable for you to go around saying and doing whatever you want. Actions have **consequences** , Mr. Elliot." The principal sighed, Mr. Prickley pinching the space between his eyes and shaking his head back and forth as he sat behind his desk. His black mustache fiddled about as he cringed and continued. "I'm very sorry."

"Are you trying to tell me I don't have any authority to punish my students if they act out?"

"Not if it means calling the nastiest litigation attorney in town and telling him he has to come here to pick up his awful child."

"I felt that Mr. Smacky needed to know how his son behaves." Mr. Elliot reasoned.

"Well he knows now, because he's suing us for gross neglect."

"That...that...GAH!" Mr. Elliot groaned, throwing his hands in the air, storming out of the room and heading to the library. He sighed, depressed, sitting down at one of the tables as he slowly took out his Iphone from his pocket and turned on the Book app. Perhaps reading some Stephen King would make him feel better. In those stories bullies like Torque Smacky always seemed to get just what they deserved-

"I got one of those emails too. Figured it was spam."

"So you didn't read it, right?" A slightly panicked voice murmured.

Mr. Elliot sat up slightly. He recognized the voice. It was Dib, speaking to Letter M, one of his classmates. He turned, seeing M, Dib and Gaz sitting by one of the library computers, Dib pointing at the screen. "So you might have gotten the email about the The Fat Man?"

"The what?"

"The Fat Man. It comes with a subject line that reads "Do Not Click", but if you click on the link, well...you die." Dib admitted, the Letter M raising an eyebrow up, the young African American folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh? How?"

"See, the link opens up this website. Someone managed to get screen captures of the website and sent them off to warn people. But it changes for whomever clicks on the link, according to what I've heard and read. See, the pictures are all of this guy. The Fat Man." Dib said, pointing at the screen, which showed off a darkly-dressed, short, tubby thing with black gloves that hid clawed hands, a being that was slinking about in the dark of night around a neighborhood, face blurred out. "The pictures are always of your own neighborhood. Soon you see him standing at your block. Then at your window. And then the last thing you hear is him whispering in your ear before he does what he does to you and...well..."

"Oh c'mon. That is such bullshit." The Letter M snorted. "I mean, what's a spooky website going to do?"

"The thing is, I approached the paramedics when they were wheeling Jess out with her mom and dad what was going on and I overheard what they said. They said it was the very email I've been talking about. That it was the "Do Not Click" email and the site was open. And now Jessica's a vegetable. She doesn't move. Doesn't talk. Like...like there's nothing there inside her anymore." Dib said with a shudder. "And I've got the email here." He said, pointing at his own inbox, opening it up. "See? "Do Not Click"."

It was then that the bell rang and Dib and Gaz got up. "Better get back to class." Gaz sighed. "At least Torque'll be gone soon."

"WOOPS!" The Letter M said, a KA-CLICK sound echoing through the air as Dib wheeled about, Gaz blinking. M had opened up the email that read "Do Not Click", and now Dib gaped in horror.

"What did you-are you crazy!?"

"Just wanted to see what happens. Don't tell me you **believe** in this stuff."

Dib bolted from the library so fast he could have won an Olympic gold medal, Gaz inching away from M, shaking her head slowly before she exited the room, the Letter M rolling his dark brown eyes. "Oh, come onnnnn." He groaned, soon following after as Mr. Elliot approached the PC, looking at the website that was brought up.

Seeing a fat man in a big black coat with his face blurred out.

And standing right outside the High Skool.

AN HOUR LATER...

"Thank you for coming, Thomas. This is Mr. Smacky." Principal Prickley said, gesturing at the rather large, snazzily-dressed lawyer who had one hand in his pocket as extended the other.

"Very nice to meet you. We've got much to discuss." Mr. Smacky said, his neatly-combed-back reddish/orange hair clearly in place via hair plugs as Mr. Elliot tried not to stare at his large nose.

"Dabney, could I speak to Mr. Elliot in private?" Mr. Smacky inquired, Principal Prickley nodding and leaving the room, not wanting to get into an argument with someone who looked like he could punt him across a football field. Mr. Elliot frowned slightly as he watched the principal leave, then spoke up.

"Mr. Smacky with all due respect, your son Torque regularly acts out in class, and if I cannot-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. I'm not interested one iota in what you people think passes for discipline." Mr. Smacky said, holding a hand up before reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigar and a lighter, puffing up on the spot. "I'm going to make this very simple. My son has special needs and I expect special treatment for him."

"What." Mr. Elliot said, his tone flat and disbelieving.

"And an apology."

"...WHAT? You want me to apologize to Torque?"

"Pfft. No." Mr. Smacky snorted. "In private, not here, and to me. My office, tonight."

"Your...office. Are you seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Mr. Elliot asked, mouth agape. "What's to stop me from just going to the police and telling them you're blackmailing me into fellatio just because I won't tolerate your son's bad behavior in class?"

"Yeah, good luck with that, considering I've gotten the police off of civil cases for years!" Mr. Smacky laughed. "And it's either that, or a lawsuit I know you nor the school can afford."

"So you're gay, is that it? I know I'm well-dressed and unmarried and I have a slightly-" Mr. Elliot began to protest, mortified by what Mr. Smacky was suggesting before Smacky snorted loudly.

"What? No! I'm not gay! You're the one who's gay for sucking MY dick!"

 **"What?!"**

"In fact...it creeps me out just bein' around fags like you." Mr. Smacky added, shaking his head and getting up, exiting the room as Mr. Elliot groaned, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt. What was he going to do?

The next period it was time for class once again, and this meant another roll call. But somebody else was missing now.

"Letter M? M?" Mr. Elliot called out, glancing left and right. "...where's M?"

"He's, er, in the bathroom." Dib said.

"Yeah, and he snuck his Ipad in. Men got NEEDS, Mr. Elliot. Not that you'd know." Torque remarked. "I mean, you look like you haven't gotten any since the Bay of Pigs. It's probably why you're so uptight."

Mr. Elliot stormed out of the room, holding his head in one hand, repeating his mantra. "Three years into retirement. Three years until retirement. Three years until retire-"

But then he heard the disturbing, sickening moan coming from the bathroom and he froze on the spot. A sickening, ice-cold creep was making its way up his body as he slowly reached out for the bathroom door and opened it up, making his way towards the only occupied stall, M's feet visible from underneath. "M? H-Hello?" Mr. Elliot called out softly as he pulled the unlocked door open-

M was sitting there on the toilet, Ipad resting on his lap, open to that familiar website. His mouth hung open slightly, eyes far gone and skin pale, a disgusting bit of slime drizzling out of his ear and sliding down onto the bathroom tiles below with a DRIP...DRIP...DRIP.

Needless to say, everyone was immediately evacuated from the school. All the kids chatted among each other in soft, frightened whispers, Dib and Gaz shaking their heads as The Letter M was wheeled out into the ambulance. "It was on the web page, wasn't it?" Gaz asked.

"Yeah, that's what teach said. M must have opened up his Ipad, the website popped up and...then the Fat Man came for him. It must KNOW who clicks it. Didn't matter that he opened it up in my account, the Fat Man KNEW M clicked it somehow." Dib muttered.

"Oh. This is my fault." Elliot heard a voice say. He turned, seeing Sara sitting by herself on a nearby bench, covering her face with her hands. Her Nun attire was stained with tears as she looked up at her teacher, trying not to cry and failing miserably. "This is all my fault."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Elliot inquired gently, sitting down by her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"The email of the Fat Man. I clicked it."

"Didn't he come for you, then?" Mr. Elliot asked.

"Y...Yes. He did. I could hear him, he...I know how he does it. It...it goes in through the ear, it's this...it's so long and slick and...and..." She stuttered, shaking like a trembling leaf in a storm.

"Oh my-how did you get rid of him?" Mr. Elliot wanted to know, his face astonished, horrified at what he was hearing.

"God forgive me, I did something horrible. And I have to live with it forever." She whispered, Sara bursting into renewed tears as gently gave her a hug, his face sympathetic as he sighed sadly.

"Believe me, I know how you feel. We all have to live with something." He murmured, looking across the parking lot, seeing Torque's father picking him up, giving the man a dark, angry glare.

...

...

...

... _At first I didn't truly believe it. But then after seeing what had happened to The Letter M, my doubts seemed meaningless. He was real. Very real._

 _But I was confused. I didn't understand. Looking at the thing on my screen, seeing the words "Do Not Click", all I could think was..."Why?"_

 _ **Why**_ _would an email meant to spread danger include any kind of warning? What was the point?_

 _Until I felt his claws on my shoulder and heard his voice whispering softly._

 _Until I felt his breath on the back of my neck as he cooed to me, his tongue snaking out, further, further, brushing carefully against my ear._

 _I understood. It wasn't just a warning out of fair play. It was a confession. A confession of a narrow escape, filled with regret._

 _All of it was a puzzle. And there was but one deadly solution if you wished to get away._

 _If you could work it out, well...then you had nothing to fear, now did you?_

 _The tongue softly tickled the inside of my ear, and then-_

 _KA-CLICK._

 _"Sent." The green-skinned being whispered quietly before it vanished into the dark, it's maroon/red eyes faintly lingering on in the shadows, glittering briefly before they too were gone._

"So did you?" Sara quietly asked as she sat next to Mr. Elliot at lunch the next day, Mr. Elliot nonchalantly sipping on some coffee whilst kids milled about and spoke to each other.

"I guess I did, Sara. Just like you figured it out." Mr. Elliot quietly intoned, Dib walking by, Keef walking next to him.

"I heard Torque's dad threatened to sue the school. Now he can do whatever he wants? That's so mean." Keef sighed. "He's gonna be even meaner than usual. And he'll keep dunking my head in the toilet. So much dunking, man. The dunking's got to stop!"

"I don't think we gotta worry about Torque or his dad. Haven't you heard?" Dib told Keef, his eyes alit with a mixture of excitement and horror as Mr. Elliot sipped from his coffee.

"If people want to click on odd emails, they're entitled to, I suppose."

"At least the email has a warning." Sara admitted.

Mr. Elliot chuckled darkly, a big smirk coming to his features that didn't really suit him. "You know, Sara...sometimes in life...people don't deserve a warning." He intoned. "After all..."

 _The subject line was simple. "Regarding Tonight", from Mr. Elliot's email address with the text reading "A little taste of what you can expect tonight, Mr. Smacky. "Do Not Click" unless you're alone."_

 _Mr. Smacky bemusedly grinned, mouse sliding across the table as he raised a finger up in the air-_

"Actions have **consequences.** "


End file.
